


Glitch

by SapphyreLily



Series: Human Circuitry [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Cutting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8041102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphyreLily/pseuds/SapphyreLily
Summary: A soft stirring, an unobtrusive touch.
A whisper.

  "I am your human side."





	Glitch

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is loosely based off [ECHO (Vocaloid)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cQKGUgOfD8U), so please listen to that when you read this!

_Click-click._

**“Upgrades successfully installed.”**

Matsukawa opens his eyes, unplugging the wire from the port at the base of his neck. A blink to reboot the system has his vision going black, but he keeps calm.

_It’s not sleep mode, but similar. It’ll be over soon._

Before he can panic, the interface slowly flickers back into view, with new avatars and features available for purchase. The information box of the new upgrades that were installed appears as well, but he closes it without a second look.

He exhales lowly, calmly; it comes out as a hiss.

_See, nothing bad happened. Stop worrying._

_Stop talking to yourself. That’s what humans do._

_You are human._

_I’m not. I actually_ like _the Programming._

He turns his gaze to the new interface, filtering out the voice at the back of his mind until it mutes.

He’s not human, he’s not weak.

He refuses to be.

x.x.x.x.x

He nearly falls asleep in class.

Shaking himself awake, he frowns at his textbook. Why they still have to learn like this when they can just download the information never made sense to him, but who is he to speak up against the Programmers?

He should just be grateful that they blessed them with upgrades and mechanics.

The teacher drones on, her voice robotic; he records her lecture, but he is elsewhere, flipping through social media and looking for newer, cooler upgrades. He can always listen to the lecture again later, if ever.

_Yawn._

He freezes, then focuses his eyes on a wall of text, steadying his breathing to wall off the voice.

_Aw, come on. I’m you, too._

**_No. You are not._ **

Why is it here? Didn’t he get rid of it?

_You find this boring too, that’s a similarity._

He starts reading, a monotonous voice droning on in the back of his head to drown out the unknown, yet familiar voice. It whispers, just before it cuts off completely.

_You can’t keep me out forever._

x.x.x.x.x

Matsukawa jumps up for a block; the ball hits his hands and falls back onto the other side of the court. Hands slap his back, congratulatory; he smiles back at them, moving back in position for the next ball.

He ignores the twitch in his fingers, blaming it on the ball knocking his wiring out of place.

_Nothing big; I can always fix it later._

His fingers twitch again – involuntarily – and he clenches them into fists.

x.x.x.x.x

Matsukawa stares up at the ceiling of his bedroom. Sleep does not come, no matter how many times he presses the 'Shut down' button. His bed is too warm with the covers on, and is no better even with them off.

Third time this week.

He needs to call a Programmer, to ask them what is wrong with his central heating and why he can’t sleep.

_It’s just body heat. Go lie on the floor instead._

Matsukawa grits his teeth.

**_I refuse to do such a ridiculous thing. Also, central cooling should remove excess ‘body heat’._ **

_Well, then,_ I _will. I’m hot._

His body jerks, and he rolls out of the bed, landing on the tatami with a _thump._ He can feel his ears straining, though it is certainly not him who is trying to listen for footsteps.

_Phew. No one’s awake._

**_Everyone else has shut down properly. Begone, so that I can take my place with them._ **

_What the hell, dude. You’re allowed to stay up late once in a while._

Matsukawa frowns at nothing and rolls onto his back. The tatami is cool under him, and he relaxes into the bumpy surface. **_Optimal performance is obtained by shutting down every night on time._**

He can hear the voice snort. _We’re a human teenager. Staying up late is like a_ thing _._

**_I refuse to be associated with you. You are a hallucination._ **

_I’m your human side, you ass._

Matsukawa closes his eyes. The black void of sleep is not what he’s used to, but he will take its encroaching darkness over speaking to this voice.

**_You are a glitch, and I will be rid of you._ **

x.x.x.x.x

“What’s the time?”

Hanamaki gives him an odd look. “Five. What’s wrong with your clock?”

Matsukawa shrugs. “It stopped ticking a while ago.”

“Matsukawa, we run on _digital._ ”

“I’ve always heard my clock ticking, though.”

Hanamaki shakes his head. “Go check with a Programmer. You shouldn’t have heard ticking, _ever._ ”

He knows Hanamaki is right. He graciously accepts the pushing of his friend and calls the hotline, arranging a date.

He may be _just_ a bit worried.

x.x.x.x.x

_He reaches out blindly, fingers brushing circuit boards and edges of code. Where is he?_

_A figure is up ahead. Their back is broad, wide-spread shoulders slanting into slim hips. The figure turns as he does, until they are face to face, but warm flesh meets his fingertips when he raises his hand. His gaze is drawn to his hand; it is sparking, static black and white flickering where it meets the other’s._

_The other person – no,_ his reflection – _smiles._

_“You are made of code and circuitry and wiring. The human mind will always prevail in the end.”_

**No.**

_“Yes.” His reflection grins, a lazy smile stretching under vicious eyes._

_“You cannot control me. I will have my body back.”_

x.x.x.x.x

“There’s nothing wrong.”

…he knew they were going to say that.

“Go home, and live as normal.”

A snort at the back of his mind, and he almost feels like doing the human action of groaning.

What is ‘normal’, anymore?

“I,” he hesitates, then barrels on. “I may have a glitch.”

The Programmer looks down their nose at him impassively. “Our upgrades are perfect. You cannot have a glitch.”

“But I hear this voice sometimes–”

“Our upgrades are perfect. Perhaps you are reaching your due date.”

He blanches, stumbles back. “No, no, I’m too young.”

The Programmer turns away. “Come back again if you have concrete proof of a glitch.”

He watches helplessly as they walk away. The voice at the back of his head snickers.

_Programmers,_ it scoffs. _They are never going to understand humans._

Matsukawa frets openly now. This glitch is out of control.

_I’m not a glitch_ , the voice reminds. _I am your human side, and I am going to delete you._

_Permanently._

x.x.x.x.x

Irrational thoughts and actions come more often after that. Things he had never considered before, things that shouldn’t be done, by the natural and logical manner of things.

Yet they suddenly seem appealing, and he knows, he _knows_ , it is the action of the voice in his head.

(But he cannot prove it, and all the while he grows more accustomed to the ideas of his human side.)

Walking in the rain without an umbrella.

Sleeping after the stipulated optimal time.

Jumping to catch a ball without first predicting its trajectory.

Spending excessive time looking at accessories and clothes.

Buying accessories and clothes for females, rather than males.

Swapping his avatar out for a female's and strolling in public without going anonymous.

Crazy things. Irrational, illogical things.

Reckless, _human_ things.

…they weren’t humans anymore, though. Not really.

So why was he acting more and more like one?

(The voice at the back of his mind laughs.)

x.x.x.x.x

“Did you get that glitch looked at?”

Matsukawa nods, more mechanically than he would have normally. “They said nothing was wrong.”

Hanamaki folds his arms, his avatar flickering a little. “You’re still not back to normal though.”

He’s almost afraid to ask. The older version of him wouldn’t have asked.

“What defines normal?”

Hanamaki just shakes his head. “Less questions, more practising.” He leads the way out. “I don’t want them to lower my ranking because we talked a bit extra.”

Matsukawa doesn’t care about the rankings anymore. He just wants to talk.

A little itch inside him tells him he can’t.

**_Talking is a useless human trait._ **

Weren’t they supposed to be a bit human, despite the Programming?

A force that isn’t him wiggles his fingers, and he stares at them, horrified.

_You’re a lot more human than you think, my friend._

x.x.x.x.x

He holds a razor blade over his wrist, pinching the cool metal between his fingertips. **_Can I cut it out? But where do I start?_**

The voice laughs, and his fingers grip the blade tighter, bringing it down to his wrist.

_I never took you for a cutter. Come, let me show you._

He tries to resist, but it is futile. His hand jerks, slicing down.

Matsukawa stares, and stares and _stares._

A small stream of blood, trickling out.

Tiny streamers of code trailing around the cut.

Metal tendons and sparking circuitry.

His skin flickering, as if the program did not know how to deal with a physical wound.

A low whistle from the voice.

_I guess we’re not so human after all._

x.x.x.x.x

He strolls home, slow and relaxed, eyes drinking in the vibrant life around him. The park is the only place with plant life these days, and oddly enough, he enjoys the colours, the bright green and deep browns, a contrast to the grey of the buildings they live in.

He doesn’t even know what he’s doing wrong until the humming at the back of his head starts up, and that’s when he realises that he shouldn’t be able to see _colours_.

He’s always seen in black and white.

The bandage on his wrists itches, a small spot of red on its white surface.

x.x.x.x.x

_A door crashing open, a figure standing in its shadow._

_He stumbles back, the back of his knees hitting something, and he goes down._

_The figure looms over him; it is his reflection, but more solid, less corporeal._

_Fingers wrap around his wrist and jerk him up, dragging his limp form over to a cliff. He is propped upright to look at the misty world below them, black and white lightning flashing, lighting up and darkening the clouds. It is beautiful, and awful._

**The circuitry is all wrong.**

_“That’s our mind, you know.” His reflection’s grip is tight, firm. “Implanted with so much technology that it doesn’t work anymore.”_

**No.**

_“Yes.” His reflection steps back, releasing his arm. “But I intend to fix it.”_

_A foot is on the small of his back, pushing him forward. He falls, screaming into the void._

_The echo of his scream and his reflection’s laughter resonates around the abyss that he falls into._

Matsukawa jerks up in bed, panting, sweat beading along his brow. His fingers grasp at nothing, opening and closing spasmodically. He tries to clench them, but they don’t respond to him.

He panics.

He tries to turn his head, to curl up on himself, even trying to shift his eyes to the side. Nothing works.

Before his eyes, his hand raises itself, moving to touch his face, fingertips gliding along his jaw, pressing on the skin in disbelief.

“Wow.”

It’s not his voice, it’s _the_ voice.

“Hell yeah it’s my voice.” The voice sounds excited. “I finally have control of our body, this is awesome.”

The voice – his human side, supposedly – swings his legs off the bed and sets his feet on the ground, rising up uncertainly and taking unsteady steps forward. He manages to stumble all the way to the cupboard and open the door, facing the mirror with his jaw slack.

“I really have a body.”

He wants to shout and scream. **_Give me back my body!_**

The other chuckles. “No way. It was mine first.” He raises his arms into the air, twirling a little before stumbling. “Okay, I need practice. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be solid.”

**_Stop._ **

Issei turns to his mirror, flashing his teeth in a feral grin. “Never.”

He lifts a hand, points a finger gun at his reflection, cocks the gun, and shoots.

“I won’t be the first to break free, trust me.”

x.x.x.x.x

Issei approaches Hanamaki, plopping down next to him on the bench. Pink-tinted hair glints under the overhead lights, and he grins. It’s so _good_ to be able to see colour.

Hanamaki turns and cocks his head at him. “Anything wrong, Matsukawa?”

Issei lets his head loll to the side, until he can make eye contact with his best friend. “Nope. Everything's good, _Takahiro._ ”

Hanamaki’s eyes widen, and he shudders a little before his expression dies down to its blank default. “Is there a need to use my first name?”

Issei shrugs. “Maybe I like messing with you, Taka.”

A larger shudder, and Issei smiles at the lights, waiting, waiting.

“I’m not about to react to such a familiar nickname.”

He deflates a little, but refuses to give up. “Aw, come now, we used to be so close as kids. What does it matter, hmm?”

“We are no longer children, _Matsukawa._ ”

Ah, pity, the Programming had taken over again. Issei shrugs and stands. “Children or not, I’ll call whoever I want, whatever I want.”

“You’re not Oikawa.”

“True.” He flashes a cocky grin, refusing to let caution hold his words back. “But I’m sane.

“Are you?”

x.x.x.x.x

He can feel the relief of the Program they spliced into him when the Programmers catch him and bring him in. Issei smiles at each one of them, refusing to let his panic show.

(He knows who turned him in, and he doesn’t blame him.)

(How can he? They are all puppets in this game.)

“Y’know, I met a lot of people today. I wonder who has woken up?”

“Kindly cease your speech. It will do you no good.” One of Them says, but Issei keeps babbling.

“It’s so easy to break free, you know. Seriously, did you guys think you could keep a human locked within their own mind forever? That’s such a pathetic assumption.”

“Silence.”

“Present.”

The Programmer snarls at the snark, but they cannot hurt Issei. They need his body intact. So he keeps talking, keeps riling them up, keeps stepping on their toes (if they have any).

“I’m sure Takahiro will come looking for me. Tooru too. You know, noisy, affluent Tooru, who can help spread the word and help more people break free–”

A metal cap is shoved on his head, something plugged into the port at the base of his neck. Fear pounds through him, though he still smiles.

“Well, it’s been an interesting time, gentlemen.” He leans back in the seat he’s been forced into, folding his hands together serenely. “But next time, I won’t lose. I’ll free everyone next time.”

“Goodbye. There will not be a next time.”

Issei smirks and closes his eyes. “Don’t count on it. Humans are stubborn.”

A click and a whirr, and Issei falls silent, though his chest continues to rise and fall.

The Programmers sigh in relief.

x.x.x.x.x

He opens his eyes, squinting against the light, delighted to be able to move his limbs again.

A Programmer leans over him and speaks. “Report.”

Matsukawa smiles and delivers his name.

The Programmer unplugs him and helps him stand.

“Your glitch had been fixed. You are free to go.”

He doesn’t say ‘I told you so', doesn’t complain in the slightest. He just nods his thanks and leaves.

In the back of his mind, he can feel faint hammering, the crazed banging of his human side against an impenetrable steel wall.

_(A whisper, a whisper.)_

_(I_ will _break free.)_

_(I am the silence in your head, creeping up on you when you are most vulnerable.)_

_(I will take back control, you metallic parasite.)_


End file.
